Page 25

TOXIN AND TONIC

“ C itizens! You see before you undeserving, disgraceful failures,” Melina scorned, her singsong voice bouncing through the Great Hall. Half the crowd stood wordlessly, shifting their feet, suppressing looks of sympathy. The others, packed in the front, jeering, their faces twisting into wretched masks of contempt.

The control Melina and the Elders exerted over their flock left a foul taste on my tongue. My fingers dug into my pockets, my thumb pressing so firmly into my rune stone that the etching would surely leave an imprint. It was disheartening that my peers were so fickle—so easily maneuvered like puppets on oligarchic strings.

The other Elders were situated at the base of the stage. Gavrel, other Draumrs, and Akridais stood beside them lining the surrounding walls. My gaze fixated on the back of Gavrel’s thick, ebony waves, his form still and unyielding. The dense muscles of his shoulders were tense, the dark fabric of his uniform straining across his back and biceps.

Blade-like, dark nails sliced through the air as she passed the surviving competitors, holding her palms up. She moved before the line of us on the platform, her snug dress shifting over her body like molten oil with each step. When she slinked past me, her smoky, powdered floral scent invaded my senses—like nightbloom roses and bitter almonds.

Or poison.

I had once read about a toxin that smelled similar to almonds. Sweet, woodsy, and acrid.

Deadly .

The muscles of my jaw flexed, and my tongue clamped precariously between my front teeth. I would never be able to tolerate the smell of roses or almonds again.

“Nevertheless, six teams have returned, and the tournament must go on.” The horde cheered, and Melina raised her hand to silence them. I stared at the tourmaline ring on her thumb, my left hand curling around its counterpart in my pocket.

Her dainty nose sniffed with disdain as she glanced back at me. She really doesn’t suspect. A wry smile pressed into the seam of my lips, holding in the secret. Our minor victory. Praise the Ancients for her lowly opinion of everyone. In her eyes, we were all worthless from the very start.

The Elders believed that we failed, barely escaping the Mirage Orchid’s keeper by the skin of our teeth. I pictured the delicate orchid petals sandwiched between the pages of my beloved tome. The one that tumbled from the shelves in front of me on that first day in the library. Ancient History: An Unabridged Bridge into Divine Yesterdays.

My eyes met Letti’s in the crowd—golden, hazel pools like Mama’s. Concern etched on her angelic face. She was like the orchid. Resilient even when burdens pressed from all sides, trying to squash her. I yearned to have her confidence.

My eyes clamped shut, fists tightening around my ring and my talisman as Melina droned on. I was certain she loved the sound of her own voice.

What if there had been another way to defeat the decaying of our world—to delay the Withering? What if there still was?

Too much had been lost. Too much had been taken from those I cared about. Because of the Elders and their deals. The laws they implemented.

I thought of Rhaegar’s sister.

Breena’s grandmother.

Father.

Hestia Larkin.

Mama.

I could do this. I could figure out how to change Midst Fall for the better. Why should it be someone else and not me? Why should other people take risks while I drowned in my own worries, doing breathing exercises to avoid crippling panic? The good thing about breathing … I could do it anywhere, even while snooping, scheming, stabbing—or whatever one did to topple unjust tyrants.

My eyelids snapped open, eyes like impenetrable ice, focusing on Melina. Her hand fell to her side, a false smile hanging off the tips of her incisors. “In a fortnight, the celebration ball will take place. After this, the final two trials—the Wilting and the Winnowing—are sure to entertain us all.” She lifted a sharp chin, tossing her sleek hair behind her. “You’ll be notified of the opportunity to choose formal regalia in the Great Hall—the only requirement is that you choose something in the same color as your current attire. Elder Law decrees such identification. Dismissed!”

She departed, accompanied by enthusiastic applause—without mentioning or offering condolences to the fallen competitors. My mouth pressed into a grim line, unsurprised.

With any luck, the Elders and their unjust rule would be ancient history one day soon. Maybe the Fates had already written it in the stars. If not, then feck ‘em, as Breena would say.

My ember purred under my skin and through my sinew. Yesterday’s hesitations were whisked away—the soggy heft of them expelled. I bounced softly on the balls of my feet. Perhaps I could stomach a little rebellion after all.

“It’s a shame, it is.” Derya nonchalantly hung some fresh clothes in my pewter armoire, peeking at me from the side of her vision. Waiting for me to take the bait.

My eyes glinted, one eyebrow lifting. “Whatever do you mean?”

Her lips quivered as she struggled to hold back a smile. She spun around and made her way to the window where I stood, trailing her fingertips along the end of my bed. “Well … if someone had secured themselves even a morsel of the Mirage Orchid, they’d be fortunate indeed.” Her words were measured, lacking their usual brisk melody, as she fiddled with the buttons of her cobalt dress. “So, what a shame that no one did, is all.”

Glancing at her, my mouth scrunched to the side, suppressing a chuckle. I didn’t know how, but the woman often knew more than she let on. As I turned to the window, one hand reached across my chest, resting on my upper arm, while the other cupped my chin in mock contemplation. The sea was particularly calm this morning.

“Hmmm, that is a travesty.”

Derya made an impatient chuffing sound, dropping the button she’d been so focused on. “Yes, well. If someone were to have such a prize, I’m sure they’d be tickled to know how to use it.”

My eyes widened, giving away my interest. Derya clucked her tongue, wiggling her eyebrows, wrinkles creasing around her bright eyes. “Ah, yes. That would be a useful tidbit. Wouldn’t you say?”

I sighed, “It certainly would. Let’s say, hypothetically, of course, that it was found. How would one use it?”

She clapped her hands together loudly, making me flinch. “Oh! Aren’t we the curious cat? Well, I’ll have you know, I am quite a skilled alchemist, I am. Been working at the craft for as long as I remember, especially once I learned I could influence liquids and what’s in them.”

I blinked several times, my mouth gaping open. “Derya, how did I not know this about you?”

She sniffed, “I suppose you never asked. It brings me joy to have some secrets, my dear.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Anyway, now hush and listen. Hypothetically, of course, spells that reverse ember are rightfully quite rare. They often require a blood offering to activate them. So, I would think the best course of action would be to muddle the petal into a powder, add a few drops of blood, dead nettle, and mugwort.” She eyed me, one eyebrow raised. “Quite convenient that the ingredients can be found here and in the mortal plane.”

“Quite.”

“I’d guess that one petal could provide a tonic for two. Then, wait until the full moon and bottoms up!”

I cringed, my heart beating a tattoo against my chest. “My, my, Derya. That was very … informative. Thank you.”

“Always happy to help,” she murmured, brushing her palm along my arm and squeezing my hand. Her brows shot up along with the volume of her voice. “By the by! Are you looking forward to the ball? The trials? To returning home?”

I laughed, “Not really. Not at all. And yes. What about you?”

“I enjoy the Winnowing festivities as much as anybody. They really shake things up around here, but they also sadden me. I have to say farewell to those I’ve come to care about. It can be quite boring during the summer months until you all return.”

My brows furrowed, my mouth twisting in confusion. “What do you mean? You don’t return home to Haadra?”

She tittered, cuffing me on the arm she had just rubbed, “Haadra? Oh, my Ancients! I haven’t been there in nearly a century.”

“I don’t mean to be daft, but I … I don’t understand. Where do you go home to then?”

“My dear child. I am home . My astral body has been here since I passed on. I’ve worked in the palace for decades. I even knew your mother!”

“What the void!” I cried.

“No need to shout, dear. I’m standing right next to you.”

I ground my molars together, clamping my eyes and my fists shut for a moment while my mind spun.

“What is it? Are you feeling unwell? Do you need me to make you a potion for nausea?” She placed the back of her hand along my scrunched brow.

A frustrated groan fell from me as I swatted her away and sat on my bed, glowering at the flighty chambermaid. “All this time, I thought you went through the Dormancy like all of us. I didn’t know you had … passed on. That you studied alchemy.” My voice raised to a level I couldn’t control, exasperation vibrating my chest. “That you knew my mother!”

“You seem rather vexed.”

“I am vexed!”

“I know a tonic for?—”

My glare was biting, and she stopped mid-sentence. Derya tucked her lips between her teeth, sitting next to me on the velvet coverlet. “I … I’m sorry, Miss. I didn’t realize that you’d be so distraught or even didn’t know. I’ve been here so long that I often forget how to behave. It’s difficult caring for so many and them not remembering you every turn.” She stroked a hand down my curls, tucking them behind my ear like Mama used to. “I did know your mother. She stayed in this very room many times. She was kind. And thoughtful. Strong . I’ve watched you from afar over the turns. Always such a hopeful, sweet child, you were. It was easier for me to stay away—not bring up Maya because I didn’t want to cause you more pain. I … I didn’t want to carry more pain. I suppose that was selfish of me, it was.” She bowed, clasping her hands in her lap.

I sighed, putting my hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right. I understand. I can’t imagine having to bear your memories turn in and turn out while everyone else forgets. Everyone grows older—mortal reminders of the passing of time. I’m sorry, Derya.”

She swiped her fingers over damp cheeks. “Thank you. I’m always here for you. Quite literally.” A small, watery smile lined her lips.

“Who else, um, resides in Surrelia?” I shifted, crossing my legs, leaning forward in interest.

She tapped a neatly trimmed, bare nail on her lips, looking up in thought. “Well. Most of the seasoned palace workers. Mr. Burlam, of course. He’s a dear friend. Such a sweet man.”

An amused breath fell from my lips as I rested my chin upon my fist, elbow digging into my thigh. “Naturally.”

She continued, completely oblivious to my droll tone. “Ah, and the Elders.”

I jerked up, coughing on my next breath. Derya patted firmly on my back. I wheezed, dragging in air, and croaked, “The Elders live here? In Surrelia? As in their physical bodies are here?”

“Isn’t that common knowledge?”

“Um, no. Everyone believes they live on Pyria Island and are soul-wandering with the rest of us.” A seething heat shuddered under my scar. I breathed in and out slowly, soothing myself.

I had learned more than I bargained for this morning. Although I was frustrated with Derya’s flightiness, I knew she would never cause me harm intentionally. I sighed, flexing my fingers. I’d have to process what she told me later.

“Oh. Oh my. Seems like everything has gone wibbly wobbly today, it has.”

She crushed me in her warm embrace. Sniffling, she held me at arm’s length by the shoulders. “Now, don’t forget what I told you about that wee flower. Hypothetically.” She gave me her version of a jaunty wink—with both eyes because she couldn’t wink with just one. I huffed a laugh as she popped to her feet. “And don’t forget to pick out your dress for the ball today.”

I grumbled, flopping back on the bed as she spun out of my room like the overwhelming whirlwind she was.

“Mind repeating that. I think I just suffered an apoplexy and misheard you.” Kaden crossed his arms over his thick chest, grinding his teeth together.

“The Elders never leave here. They live— physically —in Surrelia.”

“I fecking knew it,” Breena hissed, snapping gowns out of her way as we skimmed the available ball attire.

“What does it matter if they live here or on the mortal plane? I didn’t even think your physical body could be here,” Letti whispered, holding up a pretty white dress.

Kaden huffed, his ears turning a ruddy shade. I put my hand on his arm, leaning into Letti, watching those around us. “It matters because they force their laws upon us. We have to sleep half our lives away. Scrounge for food. Survive. All the while, they live here in a thriving paradise with food aplenty.”

“Oh. When you put it that way … What the void?” she whisper-yelled, her delicate features crumpling. A few curious glances were tossed our way as I covered her mouth, sweeping my head back and forth. She blinked in understanding, and I released her.

“Exactly. Also, it would seem that their ember is so divine that they can be here physically. Who knows?” I shrugged, absentmindedly tugging the only black gown I could find off the wooden racks strewn about the Great Hall. “Did you know most of the seasoned palace staff are deceased and live here in their astral forms?”

“What?!” Letti cried, collecting more than a few curious stares now. I frowned at her, and she grimaced sheepishly, cheeks turning pink.

Breena laughed. “I mean, it makes sense. We are in Surrelia.” My chin lifted, puckering my lips as my brows furrowed. She had a point. “Most of the deceased live in the capital far beyond the Reverie Weald. There is a whole realm outside Morpheus’ little bubble.”

My mouth dropped open. “Bree, how the void do you know all this?”

She beamed. “You read. I persuade people to tell me stuff. It helps that they know it’s the most effective way for me to stop hounding them and/or waving my blade close to their tender bits.”

Letti and I snorted at the same time. This woman was absurd. Absolutely, delightfully absurd.

“I’ve got to get out of here. See you later, Ser,” Kaden grumbled, pecking me on the cheek before stomping away with his green formal attire.

I sighed, knowing that he was most likely going to chew Gavrel a new orifice. I couldn’t fathom how his brother hadn’t known about this—as an elite commander in the Order. Just another secret he’d kept locked away.

“That is gorgeous, Ryn. That’s the one,” Breena said, holding up a ruby-colored dress. “Now, do me.”

I chuckled. “You’re going to look astonishing, Bree.”

“Yes. Yes, I will.”

“Also, this is the only black gown there is. So, yes—it is the one.”

“And what a stunner it is.” She called after me as I left with my dress bundled in my arms, chuckling.

As I entered my room, a glimmer caught my eye. A satchel and four glass vials, each the size of my pinky finger, sat on the end of my bed. I picked up the folded parchment next to the gifts, reading the looping, feminine script.

Seryn,

Keep the vials safe at all times. A little birdy found what we were talking about. I thought whisking these up would be an excellent Winnowing gift for my favorite girl. Albeit a sneaky one, you are. There is one still left where you hid it, by the by. The little birdy won’t sing for anyone else, so don’t you worry.

Now, if you recall, all you need is to add a few drops and then drink it under a full moon. It may take some time for the tonic to work.

I hope this isn’t too forward, dear. But I also made a special tea blend for you … in case you were in need of a … preventative. Just use it the day after you take a roll in the garden. I know how these grand balls can be.

Hugs,

Your favorite alchemist

It was indeed too forward. My. Cheeks. Were. On. Fire. How did Derya know I hadn’t … rolled in the garden … with Kaden yet? I brushed my fingers over the tea satchel and then covered my face, groaning into my hands. The woman didn’t waste any time when she set her mind to something. Did she have a store of ingredients lying around somewhere? She never ceased to amaze and exasperate me all at once.

A dry chuckle escaped, and then I shrugged, storing the blend in the drawer of my nightstand. Forward but thoughtful, considering I wasn’t ready to have children yet … especially if I wouldn’t remember how they were made. But did it matter that we were in our astral forms? I suppose it wouldn’t hurt either way.

Sighing, I picked up one vial, shaking the fine gray powder within. In the light, it sparkled with flecks of silver. Derya had made the Mirage Orchid concoction sans blood. I rolled the smooth glass between my thumb and first two fingers, struggling to swallow the lump in my throat.

The possibilities were endless. We could save these for any mishaps during the trials. Or was it possible that they could heal memory damage caused by the Dormancy pods? Would it work on an astral form?

Heart twitching in nervous anticipation, I found my black leather pouch and secured the vials. I dug my talisman from my pocket, and as I ran my thumb over it, its usual prickle of energy met my skin. I dropped it in the pouch for good measure, wrapping the long cord around it and tying it tightly.

We’d need all the help we could get.